
FT MEADE 
GenCol 1 


THE 

ENCHANTED BIR 


ANTOINETTE HE COURSEY PATTERSON 


— - 






Class. ?2 h 

Book T 

GopigM?. ___£=_ 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 



























\ 













* 



































I 





















« 









% 





V 






► 







# 








































The Enchanted Bird 

and other Fairy Stories 


BY 

Antoinette DeCoursey Patterson 

H 

I 

Illustrations by 
ELIZABETH PILSBRY / 


THE PENN PUBLISHING 
COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
19 17 


COPYRIGHT 
1917 BY 
THE PENN 


PUBLISHING 

COMPANY 



The Enchanted Bird and 
Other Fairy Stories 


f 

W -3 1317 




©CI.A476966 t 




Contents 


I. 

The Enchanted Bird 

. 

. 

9 

II. 

The Cave Fairy 



16 

III. 

The Adventure of Fairy Rosy- Wings . 



18 

IY. 

The Scrap-Book Fairy .... 



21 

Y. 

The Christmas Tree Fairy 



24 

YL 

The Snow Fairy 



26 

YII. 

The Blue Flower 



29 

YIII. 

The Fairy of the Lily .... 



34 

IX. 

The Swan Fairy’s Present 



37 

X. 

Grandfather and the Fairy . 



39 

XI. 

The Fairies of the Bracken . 



41 

XII. 

The Fairies of the Mill .... 



44 

XIII. 

The Moon Fairy 



47 

XIY. 

The Hall of the Roses .... 



50 

XY. 

Ximble-Foot and the Crystal Slippers 



56 

XYI. 

The Cloud-Fairy’s Grandchildren 



58 

XYII. 

The Fairy Ball 



61 


5 


The author acknowledges the courtesy of 
“ The Youth's Companion ” in permitting 
these stories, “The Cave Fairy f “ The Scrap- 
Book Fairy," “The Christmas Tree Fairy f 
“The Snow Fairy f “Nimble-Foot and the 
Crystal Slippers ,” to be reprinted here. 


6 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

One of the Birds She Had Always Loved . . . Frontispiece 

He Followed Her Into the Tree .10 

She Lifted the Net .19 

“ I Have Her Safe in This Book ! ” 21 

A Christmas Fairy Swayed To and Fro . . 25 

They Ran to the Palace 33 

She Caught the Gleam of Rainbow-Colored Wings ... 35 

“ It is the Fairies’ Supper-Time ” 45 

The Dear Little Princess Herself 53 

“ Some of the Cloud-Fairy’s Grandchildren ” 59 


The Enchanted Bird and 
Othe'r Fairy Stories 


7 


* 


The Enchanted Bird and Other 
Fairy Stories 


i 

The Enchanted Bird 

H AD any one told young Rudy he could be lost on the 
mountain where he had lived all his life, he wouldn’t 
have believed it. Yet this was just what had hap- 
pened on this lovely summer day. He had gone off the trail, 
and had happened upon twists and turns he had never 
dreamed of, and had then suddenly come upon a strange big 
tree — bigger than any six he had ever seen all put together. 
And to add to his astonishment, he saw, coming from a hole 
half-way to the top, curling blue smoke. He walked around 
to look at the tree from another quarter, and as he did so, 
there came out, from a door-like opening, a little old woman 
in a red cloak and a pointed cap. 

“ My dear child,” she said, “ you must have come a long 
way to find my hut, and I doubt not you are tired and very 
hungry. Come in for a bit of soup and a good rest.” 

Rudy gladly accepted the old crone’s invitation, and he 
followed her into the tree. She gave him a bowl of good 
broth, and bade him lie down on a pile of moss heaped in one 
corner, telling him after he had had a nap she would show 
him how to get home. 


9 


SSK 


lO 


The Enchanted Bird 



HE FOLLOWED HER INTO THE TREE 




The Enchanted Bird 


1 


Rudy slept heavily and long ; but when he woke there was 
still light in the sky. 

“ I thank you very much/' he said to his hostess, as he 
picked up his cap. “ I hope some day I may be able to do 
you a favor.” 

“ You can do that now, my young friend,” was the 
answer. “ Just climb that tree yonder, up to the very top, 
and, from a nest you will find there, bring me the one egg it 
holds.” 

Rudy said he would do anything for her rather than rob 
a bird’s nest. But when the old woman assured him the 
mother bird had long ago deserted the nest, and that she 
wanted the egg just for a curiosity, he took off his jacket and 
went up the tree like a squirrel. In the nest was the one 
egg, just as she had said, and as Rudy slipped it carefully 
into his pocket, he wondered how she had happened to know 
about it. He was about to come down from the tree when 
his quick eyes caught sight of another egg, almost covered 
with leaves. This one he slipped into his other pocket. He 
gave the old woman the first egg, but said nothing about the 
second. She seemed so glad to get it that she quite forgot to 
thank Rudy ; but she remembered to lead him by yet other 
winding and unfamiliar paths to one well known to Rudy. 
And then, with extraordinary suddenness, she disappeared. 

That night, when Rudy told of his adventure, his grand- 
mother with whom he lived only laughed. “ You fell asleep 
in the woods,” she said, “ and had a strange dream.” 

Somehow Rudy forgot all about the egg, which remained 
in his coat pocket. Now his own little body kept it warm 
during the day, and at night his coat hung on a nail by the 
kitchen fire. So the egg in due time was hatched ; and one 


12 


The Enchanted Bird 


fine morning what did Rudy see coming out of his pocket, as 
he was trudging along in the woods, but a most beautiful 
bird, fully fledged and strong of wing I It lit on his finger, 
and then further startled him by saying quite distinctly, “ I 
am your little bird — but oh, don’t put me in a cage ! ” 

“ Never,” answered Rudy, venturing at the same time to 
stroke the small golden head with his finger. 

The bird, as though out of gratitude, sang him a bewitching 
song, and when he returned home flew up to a tree just outside 
his window. “ Don’t tell any one about me,” the bird said. 

So Rudy kept very quiet about his new little friend, who 
always went with him on the walks, which now never seemed 
lonely. 

One day, while out in the woods with the bird, he thought 
to himself it would be interesting if he could again find the 
old woman, and learn whether she, too, had such a bird as 
his. But when he left the path and started off in a certain 
direction, his companion grew strangely excited, and fluttered 
about in a most distressing manner. 

“ Oh, not that way ! ” the bird begged. 

Rudy paused. “ Why not ? ” he asked. 

“ Alas ! I may not tell you,” was the answer, “ but oh, not 
that way — at least not until to-morrow.” 

Rudy, generally so good-natured, this time proved quite 
obstinate. “ You may stay on that tree until I come back,” he 
said. “ I’m sure I won’t get lost this time, and I won’t stay 
long.” 

The bird uttered a sound almost like the sob of a human 
being, but Rudy was already off on his search. After only a 
few turns he came upon the great tree, from which the blue 
smoke was still curling. But though it was the same old 


The Enchanted Bird 


*3 


woman who came to the door, her face was now both fierce 
and cunning, and she made no concealment of the anger the 
sight of Rudy evidently awakened in her. 

“ You little wretch ! ” she cried, brandishing a great black 
stick. “ You stole the egg I wanted, and gave me some old 
hen’s egg in its place. But I’ll get- even with you.” And 
before Rudy could escape she threw a chain around him 
which tightened of itself about his waist. Then she drew 
him with her into the tree. There was no suggestion of 
savory broth this time ; the only food being a great fat toad 
which lay on a board waiting to be cooked. 

“ Now,” she said, fastening the chain securely to a nail, 
“ here you’ll stay until you tell me where the egg is you kept 
for yourself, or the bird — as it more probably is by this 
time.” 

But Rudy refused to open his mouth — and how he wished 
he had taken the advice of his little feathered friend ! He 
felt sure the old witch, for such he now knew her to be, 
would not kill him, for then there would be no chance for 
her to learn of the whereabouts of the bird. But it was cer- 
tain he must prepare for a most unpleasant experience. 
Rudy, though, had both a plucky and a loyal heart ; and he 
determined neither to be frightened to death, nor, under any 
circumstances, to give up the little bird. 

It was soon clear it was the witch’s intention to try first the 
effect of starvation, for even when night came she offered 
Rudy no supper. Finally, in spite of the uncomfortable posi- 
tion he was in from being chained, he fell asleep. 

All through his dreams flew the little bird, ever saying, 
“ Oh, not that way — at least not until to-morrow ! ” When 
he awoke, he began to wonder why the bird had added, “ not 


The Enchanted Bird 


H 

until tomorrow.” There was surely more mystery about 
the little creature than just its ability to talk. “Not until 
to-morrow ” — there was something comforting in the words — 
and it was almost to-morrow now. 

“ Are you going to tell me what you did with that egg ? ” 
again demanded the witch, seeing Rudy was awake. 

“ No,” replied Rudy stoutly. 

“ Very well, then,” said the old hag, “ we shall see ” — and 
she put a huge kettle on the fire, remarking at the same time, 
“ A little hot water will bring him to his senses.” 

Soon the water began to bubble and steam. “ Ha,” said 
the witch, lifting the lid, “ it's about right now ! ” 

She was just coming toward Rudy with the kettle, when 
somewhere in the distance the clock chimed the hour of mid- 
night. Rudy braced himself with the thought, “ It is to-mor- 
row,” and lo ! — just as the boiling water was about to be 
poured on his head — some one with a strong young arm 
intervened. With a shriek the old witch sank in a heap on 
the floor, and Rudy looking up beheld standing before him 
the most beautiful girl he could ever have imagined. 

“ Your little bird,” she said as she loosed his chains, “ was 
an enchanted princess. If the old witch yonder did not get 
me until to-day, I was to be free to assume my natural form. 
You see now why I didn’t want you to come here. But you 
have been so brave, dear Rudy, that all is well. What a nar- 
row escape, though, we have both had ! The witch was my 
father’s enemy. To spite him, she had an evil friend who 
dealt in magic put this spell upon me. But her friend’s 
powers were limited, and so a slight chance of escape was 
given the poor princess. And then one of the birds she had 
always loved laid one of its own eggs in the nest, in the hope 


The Enchanted Bird 


15 

the old witch might be fooled — as she was/' added the prin- 
cess with a happy laugh. 

“ She won’t trouble us any more,” she continued, “ for in 
losing me, whom she was going to cage, she has lost as well 
her power to work harm. But let us leave this wretched 
place at once.” 

As the two walked together toward the path which would 
lead them home, the princess said, “ You and your grand- 
mother must come with me to my father’s kingdom, where 
you will receive much honor for what you have done for me ; 
and when they talk about my wedding,” she added shyly, “ I 
shall say I will marry no one but ” 

“ Rudy ! ” came the answer very quickly. 


II 


The Cave Fairy 

S ARA and Robert were in a state of the greatest excite- 
ment. They had discovered a cave in the mountain 
back of their summer home, on the side facing the sea ! It 
was a very small cave, too small for either of them to crawl 
into, but they could see it was deep, deep. What might there 
not be living in it? — a dragon, possibly, or, better still, a real 
fairy ! Indeed, before they had found the cave, Robert had 
seen a little grey figure moving about near by — a figure of 
just the size, Sara said, when he described it afterward, that 
fairies were supposed to be. Oh, if they could only see fur- 
ther in ! But perhaps if they came every day and watched 
for a while they might again catch a glimpse of the grey 
figure. At any rate it was quite worth trying. 

On one of their visits, the one on the day Robert was six 
years old, the children were allowed to take their luncheon 
with them ; and in it was a little cake baked especially for 
the day. 

“ Let us leave a large and generous slice for the fairy,” said 
Robert. So they cut a slice and left it on a stone inside the 
opening of the cave. 

The next morning the cake was all gone — save for a few 
crumbs lying on the ground I 

“ The fairy has eaten it,” whispered Sara. “ Oh, Robert, 
perhaps she’ll come out to-day ! ” 

16 


l 7 


The Cave Fairy 

So the two waited among the bushes, their hearts full of 
new hope. Suddenly their sharp ears caught sounds in the 
cave, which up to that time had seemed such a silent spot. 

Robert grasped Sara’s hand for, even if he did happen to 
be a boy, he was just a little frightened. The sounds ceased ; 
then they began again — and then, out of the cave, and 
straight seaward, flew a large, fair bird. 

“ It’s only an old sea-gull ! ” cried Robert, disgusted and 
disappointed. 

But Sara tightened her hold on her brother’s hand. “Rob- 
ert,” she said, “ I don’t believe it’s a sea-gull at all — but the 
fairy herself, in disguise ! I remember now that fairies never 
want any one to find out where they live — and you know you 
once saw a small thing dressed in grey near the cave — and 
what could have been easier than for a fairy to change her 
cloak into grey feathers ? ” 

So the two children went home, quite happy and content, 
and told their mother that at last they felt sure they had 
really seen the fairy who lived in the cave 1 


Ill 


The Adventure of Fairy Rosy-Wings 

LL the fairies had left the old house in Sycamore Hollow 



jL\. except Rosy-Wings, who was a lazy, easy-going sort of 
fellow and didn’t in the least mind the way things were be- 
ing allowed to go to pieces. The woman in charge of the 
place was very old, and so dim of sight that the cobwebs on 
the porch were never removed, but grew thicker day by day. 
This, however, exactly suited Rosy-Wings, who asked nothing 
better than to swing in a cobweb, which made a most excel- 
lent hammock, through most of a long summer afternoon. 
Morning-glories, too, grew thick about the pillars of the 
porch ; and every evening Rosy-Wings would select a fine big 
one into which he would creep, just before it closed up for the 
night, so he might be free from draughts and damp air. In 
the winter Rosy-Wings had a comfortable corner near the 
hearth, where he wasn’t in the least afraid of being disturbed, 
since it was only the middle of the room that was ever swept 
by the old woman. 

But it was during the summer that Rosy-Wings met with 
his Adventure. 

One delicious morning he was lying in his hammock 
swinging lazily back and forth — one eye half open lest a 
spider should take it into its head to return to its deserted 
home — when he noticed that a humming-bird seemed to be 


The Adventure of Fairy Rosy- Wings 19 



finding much honey in the nasturtiums which bordered the 
road. Having a very sweet tooth himself, he spread his wings 
and flew off in their direction. 

Deep down into one of the flowers he thrust a tiny hand, 
and then began daintily to lick each sticky finger, never for a 
moment noticing what was coming along the road. Suddenly, 
as he came to the last finger, he saw it was a Youth with one 
of those dreadful nets for catching butterflies ! Often, on 
account of his rose-colored wings, he had been taken for a 
butterfly — would this happen again ? In sheer terror the poor 
little fellow tumbled off the flower onto the grass. Where- 
upon, without more ado, the Youth flung a net over him and 
held him a prisoner, while he opened a bag in which the fairy 
well knew poisons were kept for just such occasions ! 

Rosy-Wings was too frightened even to speak ; so he lay 
there quite still in all his misery, but with oh, such an appeal- 
ing look in his two bright eyes ! 



20 


The Adventure of Fairy Rosy-Wings 

It was at this very moment a Maiden came along the road. 
The Youth’s back was turned — he was still stooping over his 
bag — so he did not see her. Quietly she slipped up to where 
the little prisoner lay, and deliberately she lifted the net so 
that he might escape ! 

This, though still horribly frightened, Rosy-Wings man- 
aged to do, coaxing his wings to carry him to the branch of a 
tree, quite out of reach of the net. There he rested a few 
moments until he could get his breath again. 

Meanwhile the Youth had turned around and had seen the 
trick the Maiden had played on him. His face flushed hotly. 

“ That would have been the rarest specimen in my collec- 
tion,” he said. 

“ I just couldn’t help it,” the Maiden answered. “ I can’t 
stand seeing even a little butterfly look so sad without trying 
to do something.” 

Then she held out both her hands to him. “ Will you not 
forgive me ? ” she asked. 

The Youth took the outstretched hands. “ On one condi- 
tion,” he answered. 

But by this time Rosy-Wings felt quite recovered ; so he 
spread his wings and flew back for another hour in his com- 
fortable hammock where in dreams he could forget the dread- 
ful fate that had so nearly been his. 



IV 

The Scrap-Book Fairy 

I N Grandmother’s picture scrap-book there had lived, for 
oh ! so many years, the dearest little fairy imaginable. 
Her full white dress was sprinkled with tiny rosebuds, not 
much bigger than a pin’s head, and a wealth of them crowned 
her dainty curls. 

The two little girls, Bessie and Ada, always asked to see her 
whenever they visited Grandmother, who would tell them 
wonderful stories about the fairy, always ending with, “ And 
she’s so full of mischief that it is a very good thing indeed I 
have her safe in this book ! ” 

One Saturday, when Bessie and Ada arrived at their Grand- 
21 



22 


The Scrap-Book Fairy 

mother’s, they found the house in a most upset state. The 
parrot had got out of his cage and gone up a tree ; the white 
Angora kitten had rubbed against the newly-painted cellar 
door, and was now a bright green ; and last, but not least, the 
beautiful cake which was being baked for the children had 
been entirely forgotten, after it was put in the oven, until it 
was burned to a cinder. 

But Bessie and Ada had been brought up to be useful chil- 
dren, and to help wherever they could. Ada, who was as 
active as any monkey, went up the tree and brought down 
Mr. Parrot, who was too frightened to try even to peck at her, 
while Bessie took hold of the kitten by its collar and neatly 
snipped off bunches of hair where the paint was thickest. 
And then they both told Grandmother they would much 
rather have the red-cheeked apples they could see on the side- 
board than any cake that was ever baked. 

Grandmother smiled to see what capable and amiable little 
girls they were, though she kept repeating that she could not 
see how the parrot, the cat, and the cake had all managed to 
make so much trouble at one and the same time. 

Luncheon wasn’t quite ready, so Bessie picked up the old 
scrap-book, which to-day was lying on the table, to look again 
at the fairy. The book opened almost of itself at the familiar 
page — but this time no fairy was to be found. 

“ Grandmother,” cried Bessie, showing the empty page, 
“ she’s not here — what has become of her? ” 

Grandmother looked and looked, but sure enough there was 
no rose-garlanded little creature to be seen anywhere — only 
two spots of glue where she had once been. 

“ That book blew open this morning,” said Grandmother, 
“ and the fairy has escaped ! Now we can account for all that 


The Scrap-Book Fairy 23 

has happened. We must find her and put her back again, or 
who knows what will happen next I ” 

The children at once began the search, and soon Bessie’s 
bright eyes found the fairy — in the fireplace almost at the- 
other end of the room, looking, Grandmother declared, even 
more mischievous than ever. 

“ Now,” said Grandmother, as she brought out a bottle of 
fresh paste and fastened the fairy to the page again, “ we will 
go to the dining-room and enjoy our luncheon in peace ! ” 


V 


The Christmas Tree Fairy 

T HE big house on the hill, which had been closed so long, 
was at last open, its owners having returned from a far 
country where they had been living many years. They came 
back just at Christmas time and at once set up and trimmed 
a Christmas tree, although there were no young people in the 
house. The tree could be shared, they said, with the poor 
children of the neighborhood. 

On Christmas Eve the tapers were lighted, and the huge 
doors of the hall were flung open to a dozen little boys and 
girls who had eagerly accepted the invitation to the big house. 

All of them, with the exception of little 
Hilda, who had only been allowed to 
come at the last moment, had at some 
time in their lives seen a Christmas tree, 
though, of course, never one like this. In 
among its balls, stars, and icicles, which 
looked so real one almost shivered to 
look at them, were a number of toys. On 
each of these, the children were quick to 
see, was written a familiar name. 

But little Hilda’s eyes were lifted far 
above the branches which held the toys 
to where a Christmas fairy swayed to and 
24 



The Christmas Tree Fairy 2$ 

fro from the very end 
of a branch. Never, 
the child thought, was 
anything so lovely ! 

The bodice of the 
fairy’s dress was a wild 
rose and the white 
tulle skirt was spangled 
with silver ; the face 
itself was radiant and 
smiling, and the hand 
held a tiny wand 
tipped with a star. Of 
course, little Hilda said 
nothing ; but in her 
heart she thought how 
poor must seem the finest toy in comparison with the fairy. 

After the children had looked at the tree to their heart’s 
content, and had danced around it, singing a little Christmas 
song learned in school, a tall, fair lady, who Hilda thought was 
almost as beautiful as the fairy, began to distribute the gifts. 
But when she came to the last child, Hilda, it seemed no toy 
was marked with her name. The lady looked the tree all 
over in despair, when suddenly there was a faint whirring 
sound — and straight to Hilda’s feet fluttered the little fairy 1 
The child gave such a glad cry that the lady said at once : 

“ Pick it up, little girl ; the fairy is your Christmas gift.” 
Of course, there were those who thought the fairy simply blew 
down, owing to a sudden draught from the window. But Hilda 
knew better ; the fairy had come of her own accord, and just 
because she understood how much a little girl wanted her. 



VI 


The Snow Fairy 

T HERE was nothing in which Angela more delighted 
than in coloring pictures in story books. As Angela 
was really clever with her brush, and very neat, her mother 
did not in the least object ; indeed she had said that when 
Angela was a little older she should have lessons in painting. 

The picture that Angela decided to color on this very cold 
afternoon was one that illustrated a story about a snow fairy. 
She would just have time to finish it before it grew dark, for, 
with the exception of the blue sky and a few fir trees, there 
was little else to be done. It would be best, Angela thought, 
to leave most of the paper white, as representing snow. To 
be sure there was the fairy herself ; but she hardly counted, 
being only half as big as the icicle she was hanging to a fir 
branch. Besides, her gown must be left white, too, like the 
snow. So there would really be only her long fair hair and 
the star on her forehead — which it would take but a dash or 
two of blue paint to make shine. 

The picture was finished before dark, and her mother said 
it was the best work Angela had yet done. 

That night Angela went to bed feeling particularly happy, 
for the very next month she was to begin her painting 
lessons. 

The little girl pulled up the warm woolly comfortable 

26 


2 7 


The Snow Fairy 

close around her ears — so cold had the weather grown — and 
soon she was fast asleep. And then it was that the Snow 
Fairy stepped out of the book and stood on the bed within a 
few inches of her nose I In the bright moonlight she could 
be plainly seen. 

Angela was delighted. “But are you not cold?” she asked, 
“ and would you not like to get under my warm covers ? ” 

The Snow Fairy laughed, and the laugh seemed like the 
tinkle of dolls’ sleigh-bells. “/ cold? Why, dear child, I 
melt away whenever I come out of the book if it gets the 
least warm. If it weren’t for that wide open window I could 
never stand the heat of this room. But I’m glad it’s cold 
enough here for me to stay a moment, for I want to tell you 
how much I like your last picture — you got just the right 
shade of gold for my hair — and to let you know that I, too, 
can paint I Jack Frost taught me.” 

Angela clasped her hands. “ Dear, dear Snow Fairy,” she 
begged, “won’t you please show me some time just one of 
your pictures ? ” 

Again the fairy gave her silvery little laugh. “ When you 
get up in the morning,” she said, “ go right to the window of 
this room which faces north, and there you will see one of my 
pictures. It is all in white and silver — and oh, how I wish I 
could use color like you do! — But just standing on this bed 
is making me warm, so I must go right away. Good-bye, 
dear child ” — and the tiny creature was gone. 

It seemed only a few minutes after this that it was morning. 
Angela rubbed her eyes ! “ What a funny dream I had last 

night,” she thought. 

Nevertheless she went to the north window and there, 
covering the big wide pane, was a most wonderful fairy 


28 


The Snow Fairy 

forest ! A road wound through it, on each side of which 
grew flowers, silver and white, and tall ferns. Some of the 
trees were like palms, while others were festooned with moss. 

The picture was so beautiful that Angela stood before it 
spellbound — and then she began to wonder whether her ex- 
perience of the night had been only a dream after all ! 


VII 


The Blue Flower 

O NE day, ever so long ago, two poor peasants heard a sud- 
den cry from their little four-year-old girl who had been 
playing in the clearing around their house. They rushed out 
at once, and, to their utter astonishment, found a small boy, 
of about their daughter’s age, looking frightened but unhurt 
as he lay on his back on a soft piece of moss. 

“ Where did he come from ? ” they asked in the same 
breath. 

“ He dropped from the skies and rolled straight down that 
hill,” was all the answer the little girl could give. 

“ A big bird picked me up, and then let me go,” finally came 
from the boy himself. 

And this was all the peasants could find out. Sometimes 
the boy would say a word or two about his mother, who had 
gone away, or his father whom he called the king. And 
again he would talk of a big bird. But he was too little to 
give a clear account of anything, and so the peasants, even 
though they were very poor, decided to let the child stay with 
them and grow up as their son. 

That he was of different birth from their own little Gerda, 
the peasant’s wife knew well, from the fineness of the clothes 
which she put carefully away, lest an hour’s tumbling around 
in the clearing should have quite destroyed them. 

29 


3 ° 


The Blue Flower 


The boy, whom they called Ernie, throve under the care 
and kindness he received, even though the fare was poor and 
sometimes scanty. And he was so happy, playing all day 
long with Gerda ! As the months lengthened into years he 
talked less and less of his mother and the king, and never of 
the great bird, which his adopted parents were glad to think 
he had forgotten. At times, though, Ernie had very serious 
moments when he would be quite silent for a long time — -just 
thinking, he said. 

One day the children scrambled up to the top of a very high 
hill. “ Look, Ernie,” cried Gerda, “ at this lovely blue flower 
I have found growing in the rocks. I have never before seen 
one so blue.” 

Ernie trembled all over at a sudden memory. “ That was 
the kind of a flower that made the bird drop me,” he said ; 
“ and it was on this hill. Throw it away, Gerda, quick ! ” 

But Gerda did not throw it away. Instead, when the boy 
wasn’t looking, she stuffed it into her little pocket. “ It is a 
lucky flower,” she thought, “ since it made the bird drop Ernie 
right near our home.” 

Ernie, thinking Gerda had parted with the flower, soon 
broke again into merry laughter, and challenged his compan- 
ion to a race down the hill and home to dinner. But all that 
evening the boy seemed strangely quiet; and the next day, 
after he and Gerda had set out for a walk, he told her he was 
going far away, that very morning, and that when they came 
to the end of the clearing he must say good-bye to her. 

“ Why are you going away, Ernie?” asked the distressed 
little girl. “ Aren’t you happy here ? ” 

“ Happier than I shall ever be anywhere without you, Gerda. 
But I have been thinking over things a long, long while. 


The Blue Flower 


3i 


Your father is poor, and now that I am big and strong I must 
not be an expense to him any more. If I were to tell him or 
your mother, they would not let me go, so kind they are.” 

“ I will not let you go, either, Ernie,” and little Gerda tight- 
ened her clasp on his hand. 

Ernie pulled it gently away. “ You must, Gerda. A prince 
is proud, you know, and cannot accept too many favors. But 
when I grow up to be a big man I shall come back to marry 
you.” 

Then the little prince ran off straight ahead as fast as he 
could go. Gerda slipped into the woods and followed him by 
a path so leafy he could not see her, though she kept pace 
with him all the time. To a young friend she met going 
toward her home she entrusted a message to her parents, ex- 
plaining that Ernie was running away and that she had to 
follow to see no harm came to him. Whenever Ernie stopped 
at a house for a glass of milk, she ran on and got a drink at 
the next one ; and not until the sun was setting, and the long 
shadows had begun to frighten her, did she come out on the 
road and join Ernie. 

“ Gerda,” he cried, “ what a naughty little girl you are ! ” 
But at the same time she saw Ernie looked very pleased. “ I 
suppose you might as well go the rest of the way with me 
now,” he continued, “ for I feel somehow we’re not much 
farther from my father’s house than yours.” Just then a cart 
came rumbling along in the direction in which Ernie wished 
to go. Since the weather was very warm and there was a 
moon, the driver had chosen the night for his trip. 

“ Will you not take us along with you?” the boy called. 

“ Where are you going?” demanded the man, looking sus- 
piciously at the two little figures out so late. 


3 2 


The Blue Flower 


“ Home,” was the reassuring answer. 

“ Very well, then,” said the man, “jump in.” 

“ How do you know the direction of your home, Ernie ? ” 
whispered Gerda. 

“ It is toward the sunset,” said Ernie. “ I always used to 
watch the sunset from one of our front windows.” 

And sure enough, after driving all night, our little wan- 
derers found themselves in the morning just outside a town 
where, in the distance, a stately castle could be seen. 

“ That is my home, Gerda,” said Ernie, pointing to the cas- 
tle. “ I remember it all.” 

As the driver was about to turn off from the town, the two 
children, after thanking him, slipped down from the cart and 
started for Ernie’s home, a good mile or two away. 

It was very early in the morning and no one was about. 
Suddenly they noticed in the sky a great black object which 
was coming swiftly toward them. Ernie grew pale. 

“ Gerda,” he said, “ it is the bird come to carry me off 
again ! I know about the bird now — it is the wicked fairy 
my nurse used to warn me about, who somehow, through an 
unfaithful courtier, got into the palace garden to do his evil 
bidding by carrying me away. There is no place for me to 
hide ! ” 

If poor Ernie had not been a prince, he would have cried 
from terror and disappointment. Nearer the bird came, and 
nearer, and now it had swooped down and was fastening its 
talons in Ernie’s coat! Suddenly Gerda remembered the blue 
flower. Pulling it from her pocket, she held it right under 
the creature’s nose, who at once let go of his prey, and with a 
piercing shriek shot high into the heavens again. 

Ernie took hold of Gerda’s hand — in the other she still 



THEY RAN TO THE PALACE 


fc.plKLjr 








The Blue Flower 


33 


held tightly the blue flower, which looked as fresh as though 
it had just been gathered — and together they ran with all 
their might to the palace. 

The sorrowful-looking king was just at that moment com- 
ing out to walk in his garden, and Ernie rushed straight to 
his arms. The king, at once recognizing his long-lost son, 
was at first too overcome to speak. Then, taking the chil- 
dren with him into a beautiful rose-covered arbor, he got 
from them little by little the whole story, and how a blue 
flower had twice saved his son’s life. 

“ Before your mother died,” the king said, addressing 
Ernie, “ she begged some one to find a certain blue flower 
which alone she had been told would protect her boy from an 
evil fairy’s plots. This is undoubtedly the flower she meant. 
It will never wither, and Gerda must give it to you to wear 
always.” 

Then the king turned to Gerda. “ We will send at once 
for your father and mother, dear child. They shall have a 
nice house with many trees around it, so they will feel at 
home. And you shall take lessons in languages and music 
at the palace, and learn many things beside — for some day, I 
doubt not, you will be a princess.” The king, smiling, laid 
his hands on both their sunny heads. 


VIII 


The Fairy of the Lily 


FAIRY one day grew tired of fairyland, and thought 



she would like to try living on the earth for a little 
change. So she looked about her for a home. She finally 
decided on a beautiful water-lily which, among many others, 
grew in a lake near the house in which Lucy lived. It had 
many advantages for a home ; it was clean, and cool, and 
white ; and at night she would never have any fear of robbers, 
so tightly would its walls close up. 

Lucy saw something of the move — at least she caught the 
gleam of rainbow-colored wings as they hovered over the 
flower. Ben said it was only an old dragon-fly she saw — but 
then Ben was always very stupid about such things ! He was 
good-natured, though, and promised his little sister that when 
he was canoeing about on the lake he would take care not to 
disturb one particular lily, and would warn any one else he 
happened to see not to pluck it. 

But Lucy could not help feeling very uneasy for the safety 
of the fairy’s home, and one day she came to her brother in 
tears. 

“ Ben,” she said, “somebody has gone off with the lily, and 
I know the poor fairy will be frightened to death ! ” 

But Ben told her not to be in the least alarmed. “ Early 
this morning,” he assured her, “ when I was out fishing, if I 


34 


t 


The Fairy of the Lily 


35 



SHE CAUGHT THE GLEAM OF RAINBOW-COLORED WINGS 


36 


The Fairy of the Lily 

didn’t actually see the fairy herself, I caught a glimpse of her 
wings — and they were making direct for the woods. I am 
sure she found it rather damp in that lily, and has moved to 
some drier place ; or else she has returned to fairyland.” 

And as Lucy could not find any trace of the fairy in the 
woods, she decided this was what had happened. She went 
to bed that night feeling very pleased and satisfied — for after 
all there is no place in the world so well suited to fairies as 
fairyland itself 1 


IX 


The Swan Fairy’s Present 

“ TTLSIE, dear,” said Mother, “ do wake up — it’s after seven 

E* o’clock.” 

The little girl turned over in bed once or twice, and then 
she opened her eyes. 

“Oh, Mother,” she murmured reproachfully, “ I was just 
having the beautifullest dream. It was about a white cloud 
which left the blue sky and came down to Grandfather's 
pond, and turned into a great white fairy bird, like one of 
Grandfather’s swans. It was just telling me it had a present 
for me when you woke me up I I’m afraid now I’ll never 
know what that present was.” 

“ I’m afraid not,” answered Mother, smiling. “ But never 
mind, for a letter came last night asking us both to Grand- 
father’s this afternoon, to spend several days.” 

Elsie was now wide awake. “ How lovely to think we are 
going to the country to-day ! Mother, why didn’t you wake 
me up sooner ? ” 

When they arrived at Grandfather’s, Elsie asked if she 
might not go right to the pond to feed the swans. 

“ Certainly, my dear,” said Grandfather, “ but you will 
find one of them acting in rather a strange way ; every once 
in a while running into the rushes, and hiding there for quite 
a time.” 

The little girl first got some cake from the pantry, and then 

37 


38 The Swan Fairy’s Present 

walked down to the pond. One swan was sailing proudly 
around the water’s edge, but there was no sign of the other. 
Elsie had always loved these birds, which she had named Star 
and Snowball, and they had grown to know her and to look 
for food from her hands. 

“ Star,” she said, as the swan came up for the cake, “ tell me 
at once what has become of Snowball ! ” But Star said never 
a word, though he gulped down a piece of cake quickly enough. 

“ That is all you shall have, for I’m going to save this other 
piece for Snowball,” and Elsie began to peer into the rushes, 
balancing herself very carefully on a big stone, as the place 
was marshy. 

“ Ah, there you are, Snowball,” she cried, and, as Snowball 
came forward to get her share of the cake, what did Elsie see 
but a nest with a number of little grey downy things all 
huddled together in the coziest way. It was impossible for 
her to get near the nest without getting both feet very wet ; 
besides the news of such a discovery must be told at once to 
Mother and Grandfather. 

“ There’s a whole nest of grey baby swans ! ” she cried, 
running into the library. “ Oh, Grandfather, mayn’t I have 
one of them for my very own ? ” 

Grandfather took up his hat and handed Mother a coat. 
“ We must all go out to see the youngsters,” he said. “ Elsie, 
since you found them, you shall have first choice. They 
won’t stay grey very long, but will turn a funny brown color, 
and not before a year will they be a pure white.” 

Mother suddenly took the hand of her little girl, who was 
jumping up and down with excitement. “ I wonder ,” she 
said, “ if after all this may not be the very present the Swan 
Fairy was bringing you in your dream I ” 


X 


Grandfather and the Fairy 

T HERE was but one thing, according to Jeannie, which 
kept Grandfather from being quite perfect — he did not 
believe in fairies. Indeed he even made all manner of fun of 
the mere idea of such things ; and when Jeannie said she had 
once seen one, with her own eyes, down by the ruined mill, 
all dressed in green with a little red cap, he told her plainly 
she had a bright imagination ! 

But Jeannie’s faith was not to be shaken. She talked 
about the fairy constantly and hoped some day it might again 
appear when she and her grandfather happened to be walk- 
ing together. 

But it was winter now, and the old gentleman had lately 
taken a great fancy to the hall fire, where he often dozed for 
an hour at a time. If any one ever charged him, though, 
with having been asleep, he would grow almost angry, and say, 
“ What nonsense ! — Why, I was making out in my head all 
the accounts for the year. You know I never sleep in the 
daytime — don’t approve of it I ” 

On one very cold afternoon Jeannie was studying her 
lesson by the fire, near Grandfather, who was leaning comfort- 
ably back in his armchair with one foot resting on the fender. 
Jeannie presently, without looking up from the book, asked 
the meaning of a new word. But Grandfather must have 

39 


40 


Grandfather and the Fairy 

been very deep in his accounts, for he made no answer. The 
little girl repeated her question, putting her hand on his to 
claim attention. 

And then it was this curious thing happened. Instead of 
giving her the meaning of the word, he said : 

“ Jeannie, will you please lift that little fairy very care- 
fully off the toe of my boot ? I’m afraid to put my foot down 
for fear she’ll fall in the fire. Her pretty red cap has already 
tumbled in ! ” 

“ Grandfather,” exclaimed Jeannie jumping up. “ Oh, 
where is she — I don’t see her at all 1” 

Grandfather rubbed his eyes. “ I wasn’t asleep,” he said, 
“ for I never go to sleep in the daytime ! ” 

“ Then,” said Jeannie triumphantly, “ maybe now you’ll 
believe in fairies ! — If only, though, they didn’t get away so 
quickly ! ” 

And when Jeannie told them all at supper that night that 
Grandfather had at last seen a fairy, the old gentleman never 
denied it. For, if he had, he knew some one would be sure to 
say he had been fast asleep ! 


XI 


The Fairies of the Bracken 

I RENE, unlike most little girls, was quite as happy when 
she had no children to play with as when she had a half 
dozen or more. The neighborhood where she lived was full 
of girls and boys, with whom she would romp and laugh and 
seem as merry as the merriest. But Aunt Eleanor never 
hesitated to ask her on a visit to her big lonely house which, 
so thick were the trees, seemed set in the very heart of a 
forest. Aunt Eleanor had never been strong, and Irene was 
the only one of her nieces she ever felt she could invite — so 
quiet and gentle could the child be. 

For her own part, there was nothing that Irene enjoyed 
more than these visits, which seemed to her like trips to 
fairyland itself. She felt that some day she really would 
come across fairies ; and at this time of which I am writing 
she was quite sure that at last she had I 

Down beyond the woods, but still within Aunt Eleanor’s 
grounds, was a big bit of marsh-land where grew tall ferns 
and rushes. Irene loved to wander by the edge of this 
bracken, where often she would find pollywogs, and occasion- 
ally a cunning green frog. But on this late spring afternoon 
she had little thought for such things, for well in among the 
rushes she had caught a glimpse of little white-gowned crea- 
tures bending toward each other as though telling secrets ! 

41 


42 


The Fairies of the Bracken 


Queer lights, too, were fluttering about, which, of course, 
might be fireflies, but which seemed much more like fairy 
lanterns. Irene could not get near the little white swaying 
things on account of the marsh, but she watched them until 
she felt Aunt Eleanor would worry if she did not return. 

At supper that evening she told her aunt she was sure the 
bracken was the home of fairies. 

“ I shouldn’t be at all surprised,” answered Aunt Eleanor ; 
“ it’s about the only place left where the poor things can feel 
they won’t be disturbed. The automobiles, going over the 
road through the woods, have probably frightened them quite 
away from there.” 

“ Dear Aunt Eleanor,” said Irene, “ would it be too long a 
walk after supper for you to let me show them to you ? The 
moon is coming up and it will be as light as day. We can 
walk ever so slowly.” 

Aunt Eleanor smiled, as she rose from the table. “ This is 
one of my well days,” she said, “ so let’s go now before it 
grows late.” 

Irene, too delighted for words, wrapped a warm shawl 
about her dear aunt, and off the two went, hand in hand, 
toward the bracken. 

Even before they got there, Irene could point out the 
gleam of little white skirts — so bright was the moonlight — 
and when they got nearer they could see myriads of the fairy 
lanterns. 

Aunt Eleanor was much interested. “ I have never seen 
so many fireflies,” she said to herself; then, in a whisper 
to Irene, “ if those white creatures are not fairies, I simply 
don't know what they are. In all the many times I have been 
down to this bracken, never before have I seen such things ! ” 


The Fairies of the Bracken 


43 

Irene fairly hugged herself with delight over the mystery 
in which they seemed wrapped. 

“ See, Aunt Eleanor, they are whispering together — oh, if 
they’d only tell us some of their secrets ! ” 

“ If they only would ! ” echoed Aunt Eleanor. “ We must 
go back now, though ; but the first thing to-morrow morning 
you must run down here, and see if, in the daylight, you can 
find any traces of them.” 

The next morning Irene was early at the bracken. No 
fairy lanterns were to be seen, but in among the rushes were 
dozens of white iris in full bloom. 

Irene, much disappointed, came back with the news to her 
aunt. But the disappointment speedily vanished. 

“ Irene,” said Aunt Eleanor, “ this is the very first time 
the white iris has ever bloomed in that bracken. We won’t 
allow any of it to be plucked, for maybe they are flowers 
during the daytime, and at night are fairies. You know last 
evening, when it was so still, we both heard them whispering 
together I ” 



days, bringing with him a friend who he knew would love 
the country as much as he did. 

On the night of their arrival the two boys stood on the 
porch looking toward the river, where the next morning they 
were going to fish. 

“ What is that old ruin,” asked the friend, “ over there on 
the bank ? ” 

“Just an old mill. It is tumbling down fast. No one 
lives there any more.” 

“ Except the fairies,” put in little Iris shyly. 

Big Brother laughed good-naturedly. “ I forgot about 

44 


The Fairies of the Mill 


45 


them,” he said. “ What have they been up to lately, Iris? ” 
He turned to his friend. “ The fairies never will come out, 
Bob, for any of the family but Iris ! ” 

“ Fairies are usually invisible — and they don’t like to be 
laughed at,” said Iris. 

“ Then we won’t laugh at them, little sister.” 

“ All right. And now, if you’ll both come with me, I can 
show you just exactly where they are.” 

The boys took little Iris by each hand, and the three of 
them trotted down to the old mill, while Mother called after 
them not to forget it was nearly supper-time. 

“ It is the fairies’ supper-time, too,” said Iris, “ and though 
of course you won’t see the fairies themselves, you’ll see their 
lights, as they go about looking for food. This spring they’ve 
bought some electric torches, just like the one Father has, 
only smaller than the very smallest star I ” 

“ How exciting,” exclaimed Big Brother. “ Let’s run 
faster ! ” 

Soon they reached the old mill. “ Now,” said Iris, “ come 
with me.” 

They climbed over the tumble-down stones of a wall — the 
door had long ago caved in — until they reached the inside of 
the mill, which was quite open to the sky, and overgrown 
with grass and bushes. The vegetation looked more rank by 
contrast to that outside the mill, which was kept closely 
cropped by many flocks of sheep. 

“ What a fine climber Iris is,” said Bob admiringly. 

“ Yes,” assented Big Brother, “ she does pretty well for a 
girl.” 

“ Now we will sit down,” said Iris, “ and wait until it grows 
darker.” 


4 6 


The Fairies of the Mill 


They did not have long to wait. “ Look,” cried Iris, half 
under her breath, “ one fairy has lighted her torch already I ” 

Sure enough, a tiny light was seen, flashing from place to 
place, and sometimes shining above the tallest bush. For a 
moment Big Brother seemed puzzled. 

“ I have never,” he said turning to his friend, “ seen fire- 
flies before in this country.” 

But Iris did not hear him— and at any rate fairies’ torches 
could easily look like fireflies without being them I “ How I 
wish I could see what they are finding to eat I ” she cried. 

Whereupon Big Brother said they must go home to get 
their own supper. 

All the way back to the house, Bob helped Iris to wonder 
what the fairies found for food. They at last decided that 
for fruit they probably had the seeds of a wild-rose they both 
saw growing there; and for cake the little wee round mush- 
rooms which could easily be discovered among the leaves and 
moss with the aid of the electric torches. 


XIII 


The Moon-Fairy 

O NLY on the nights when the moon was full would the 
Moon-Fairy come to the rose-garden to spend a few 
minutes with the child Myrta who, of all the big or the little 
folks in the great house, was the one who really loved the 
roses. To Myrta's pleadings to come more often, the answer 
was always that no moonbeam was strong enough to bear 
even her light weight save at the full of the moon. 

On these whitest nights, after the house had gone to sleep, 
Myrta would put on a big coat and slip out to the small 
balcony which opened from her room, and up which some 
of the roses of the garden climbed. It was from this balcony 
she had the talks with her strange little friend, who always 
chose the moonbeam that would transport her to the nearest 
rose. 

These visits were so few and so brief — for the moonbeam 
seemed always quivering as though anxious to return from 
whence it came — that Myrta had not yet found out half the 
things she wanted to know : about the mountains of the 
moon, for instance, whether they were all shining when you 
were near them, and whether their flowers were even fairer 
than those of earth. Once she had asked the fairy her name ; 
but the reply was, since there were no sounds on the earth 
exactly like those on the moon, she might have great diffi- 

47 


48 The Moon-Fairy 

culty in remembering it — but that if she wished she might 
call her Serena. 

And with this Myrta had to be content — though there were 
times when she longed greatly to know what some of the 
moon sounds were like. 

On this particular night the Moon-Fairy, who was usually 
rather quiet, seemed very eager to talk. 

“ You are twelve years old to-day, Myrta, are you not ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied Myrta, “ and I feel I am growing up so fast.” 

“ Myrta ” — Serena’s voice was both sad and sweet — “ this is 
the last time I may come to see you. We are not permitted 
to visit mortals after they are twelve years old.” 

Myrta’s eyes filled with tears. “ What am I going to do 
without you ? ” she cried. “ I have looked forward to seeing 
you more than to anything else — because you tell me about 
beautiful things.” 

Then Serena smiled radiantly. “ Since you feel that way, 
dear child, I may in parting give you a rose from the Crystal 
Mountain. This makes me so happy, for I have not been 
able to give one now for over a hundred years — so few are the 
children who love Beauty with their whole heart. And to 
none others may the flower belong. As I give you the rose, 
I shall whisper in your ear my name, and the rose will help 
you to remember it.” 

Myrta, entranced, leaned over the balcony, while the Moon- 
Fairy bent nearer and pinned on her breast a most lovely 
flower, white and transparent as flame. 

“ Wear it always, dear Myrta,” Serena said, “ for if you do 
not it will wither away, and the earth and the skies will 
seem less and less fair. It is invisible to all eyes but your 
own.” She then brought her mouth close to Myrta’s ear — 


49 


The Moon-Fairy 

and the name she spoke was so beautiful that for a few 
moments Myrta could realize nothing else. When at last 
she looked around her, Serena was gone. 

Myrta returned to her room, happy and sad at the same 
time. But the sadness passed away, and the happiness re- 
mained, for had she not the Moon-Fairy’s flower which she 
could wear always ? Presently she fell into the sweetest sleep. 

When Myrta grew older she composed a piece of music, of 
such witchery that many begged her to tell them what had 
suggested the theme. 

But Myrta would only smile and shake her head. For who 
would believe her, she asked herself, if she said that the 
refrain was just a little Moon-Fairy’s name? 


XIV 


The Hall of the Roses 

M ANY years ago, in a far distant kingdom, there was 
the deepest grief and mourning. Its beloved young 
Princess had been spirited away — undoubtedly by an old 
witch who had been troubling the land for some time. The 
aged King, her grandfather, wept day and night, so fond was 
he of her, and so proud of her beauty and sweetness. Indeed 
he only stopped shedding tears long enough to sign a decree 
in which he promised to give her in marriage a year hence, 
when she would be sixteen, to any worthy subject who should 
find her and restore her to him. 

Now there was in this kingdom a youth who tended the 
royal herd — a strange fellow in many ways, and one much 
given to dreaming, though never to the neglect of his duties. 
It was said that Nature often told him of her secrets, and he 
could even catch sometimes the words the wind whispered. 
Also he possessed, though none of his friends knew this, a 
pair of tiny wings, inherited from a fairy great-grandmother, 
which, if fastened to his feet, would enable him to out- 
distance any one in any race. These wings he had never had 
occasion to use, but always wore them attached to his heels 
and closely folded. 

Ever since the little Princess had been carried away, the 
youth had been exceedingly sorrowful. Having once seen her, 

50 


The Hall of the Roses 


5 1 


he knew how beautiful she was ; and of how good she must 
be judged from her lovely smile. Indeed, so dear had she 
become to his every thought, he would gladly have given his 
life to rescue her, with never hope of a reward. 

Every day now, while still watching his herd, he would 
climb to the top of a tree on the outskirts of a small bit of 
woodland, and listen and listen, in the hope that the wind 
might some day bring news of the Princess which his ears 
might prove keen enough to catch. And one morning, oh, 
so softly, he clearly heard “ In the Hall of Roses. Rescue 
me.” He listened again — but never a word came as to where 
the Hall of Roses might be. However, day after day, he 
still climbed the tree ; not only listening, but looking care- 
fully in all directions to see if by chance any path would open 
out to him which would seem to lead to the captive maiden. 
And then one morning he happened to see, hopping along 
toward his tree, a huge, long-haired rabbit. In those old 
days it was nothing unusual to see animals five or six times 
their natural size, but this one seemed to act in a most 
peculiar manner, being, the young herdsman felt sure, quite 
unconscious of his presence in the tree. 

Now just at the entrance to the woods was a large clump 
of roses, all in bloom ; into this the rabbit, gathering itself 
together in a bunch, suddenly sprang and at once disappeared. 
The shepherd quickly slipped down from the tree and ex- 
amined the spot. But no clue as to where the rabbit went 
could he find ; and the rose-bushes seemed to differ in no 
manner from those that might be found by any wayside. 
The shepherd was much distressed over what he thought 
looked like a lost opportunity, for the strange-looking rabbit 
somehow had the air of knowing the secret which was puz- 


52 


The Hall of the Roses 


zling the whole country. There was only one thing he could 
think of, and that was to climb the tree next morning to see 
if the same thing repeated itself. If the rabbit returned and 
prepared again for a mighty spring, the youth made up his 
mind he would land on the creature’s back, and go with it 
wherever it went. The next day, at precisely the same hour, 
along came the rabbit — and, as it sprang, the nimble shepherd 
was upon its back with both hands clutched in its long hair. 
The animal was unable either to check its spring or to shake 
the youth off, and in less than a second’s time, after the 
plunge into the bushes, they were both in a most exquisite 
hall whose walls were all of pink roses with ceiling of white 
ones — while the youth now found himself on the back of a 
hideous old witch, with his hands still holding on by her long 
hair. The witch tried hard to shake him off ; but the pres- 
ence of mind of the young shepherd did not desert him. He 
felt no harm could come to him while he had the witch at so 
great a disadvantage. So he only tightened his hold and 
looked about him. 

And there, in the furthest corner of the beautiful room, was 
the dear little Princess herself ; looking so frightened and so 
unhappy ! 

“ Princess,” the youth called softly, and his voice was very 
reassuring, “ come a little nearer so I may talk with you, for 
I dare not let go to come to you.” 

When the Princess was within a few feet, the shepherd 
managed to get his hands for a moment over both ears of the 
witch, who meanwhile was struggling more frantically than 
ever to free herself, and to whisper, “ Take these little wings 
off of my heels, fasten them to your own, and when I persuade 
the witch to lead the way out of this place, do you jump on 


The Hall of the Roses 


53 



THE DEAR LITTLE PRINCESS HERSELF 
















54 


The Hall of the Roses 


behind me. Then, with the speed the wings will give you, 
hasten to the palace and have three stout men come to meet 
us with heavy chains. And order others to make ready a 
cage, strong, as though for a ferocious beast — and, little 
Princess, try not to be frightened. ” 

The Princess at these last words straightened herself to her 
full height, which wasn’t so very great after all, but gave her 
a pretty dignity. “ I am not afraid now,” she said ; and she 
even smiled. 

Then the youth moved his hands away from the witch’s 
ears. “ Do be reasonable,” he said to her, and then added, “ I 
shall stay just where I am for years and years, unless you turn 
into a rabbit again, and take me out of this place and half- 
way to the town, for Pm already late for dinner. If you will 
do this, I will then let go your hair and jump right off your 
back.” 

The old witch was by this time pretty well tired out her- 
self; so, seeing she had a youth to deal with who meant just 
what he said, she in the twinkling of an eye became a rabbit 
once more. With a spring she was out in the open again with 
the youth still holding on tight, and the Princess, who had 
jumped on behind him. 

And now the wings on the little heels spread out, and, faster 
than any rabbit, she was at the palace with her strange tale. 
But in spite of its strangeness, the overjoyed King ordered the 
men to do exactly as she bade them. In a short time they 
returned, leading a monster rabbit in chains, while a tall, fair 
youth walked beside it. 

The Princess ran joyfully forward to meet her rescuer. 
“ Oh, Grandfather,” she cried, “ if it hadn’t been for this friend, 
I should still be in the Hall of Roses, where the witch was keep- 


The Hall of the Roses 


55 


ing me until I would promise to marry some day her dreadful 
son. She thought the beautiful flowers would make him seem 
less frightening — but they didn’t — they made him seem much 
worse ! ” 

But the old King said, as his eyes sought the youth's, “ My 
little girl, forget all about that, for I have another for your 
husband a year hence.” 

And the Princess, who was quick to guess whom he meant, 
smiled more radiantly than ever before. 

The old witch kept to her rabbit form, and remained caged 
for the rest of her life — for the Princess could not bear the 
thought of killing anything. Indeed, so kind was that little 
heart, she arranged that every day the rabbit should have 
twelve fresh carrots added to the regular meals — which in that 
country were quite a delicacy. 


XV 


Nimble-Foot and the Crystal Slippers 
HE fairy Nimble-Foot loved dancing better than anything 



A in the world. She not only danced all night when the 
moon shone, but nearly all day as well ; and there were a 
number of other fairies to whom she had taught a variety of 


steps. 


But ever since Nimble-Foot had happened to overhear little 
Greta reading the story of Cinderella to the kitten, she had 
herself longed, not for a prince, but for a pair of glass slippers. 
She felt sure she would be able to dance better in them than 
in any other kind. So Nimble-Foot went to see the fairy cob- 
bler, who lived in the next mountain, to beg him to make for 
her and her friends slippers like Cinderella’s. 

The cobbler, however, was a surly old fellow who didn’t like 
changes. “ Besides,” he argued, “ if you wear any other kind 
than those you have always worn, although you can be invisi- 
ble whenever you wish, your shoes never can, and will always 
be seen of mortals ! ” 

But Nimble-Foot said she didn’t mind that in the least ; 
and indeed coaxed so prettily, and danced for him with such 
grace, that at last the cobbler gave in and said he would make 
for all of them slippers of crystal — of which his mountain was 
full, and which was finer than any glass. 


56 


Nimble-Foot and the Crystal Slippers 57 

So within a week’s time Nimble-Foot and her friends were 
fitted out with the most fascinating slippers the world had 
ever seen. How the fairies all danced I Over the grass, over 
the trees and hedges, and especially on the river and the crests 
of its tiny waves. They loved it on the water, where there 
was never any dust. 

One sunny day Greta took the story of Cinderella down to 
the river’s edge to read all over again. As she finished the 
book she laid it down with a little sigh — so beautiful was the 
tale. Then, looking about her, she fell to wondering if the 
Prince had taken his bride to as lovely a home as hers was, 
with a tree so big and shady as the one under which she was 
sitting, and whether a river ran by their castle. 

As Greta gazed on the river, she noticed that at her feet it 
seemed one mass of sparkling lights — “ as though the sun 
were shining on myriads of tiny glass slippers,” she said aloud. 
Whereupon Nimble-Foot laughed — or was it just the tinkling 
of wavelets lapping the shore ? — to think how quickly Greta 
had guessed the truth ! 


XVI 


The Cloud-Fairy’s Grandchildren 
HERE was once a fairy who lived in a cloud — or so it 



A pleased Irene to imagine — who had more than a million 
grandchildren. It was the fairy’s fancy to dress some in 
violet, some in blue, some in green and yellow, and others of 
them in pink. Then she would take them for a walk, mak- 
ing them hold hands and run in front of her. She always 
arranged that those whose gowns were of the same color 
should keep together, for she thought this made a more beau- 
tiful picture. 

Now it was ever the old fairy's wish the children should 
stay among the clouds, where no harm could happen to them. 
Sometimes, however, a number of them would escape and, be- 
fore she could stop them, manage just to touch the earth ! It 
was then that people called to each other, and hurried to door 
or window to see an especially fine rainbow. 

But it was never very long before the children’s grand- 
mother was after them, calling them, in a tone they dared not 
disobey, back to their cloud-home. Some of the little fairies, 
though, had kept their eyes well about them, and, after a few 
trips risked in this manner, felt they knew their way to the 
park quite well. They thought, some of them, they should 
like to stay there forever, so they made up their minds at the 
first chance they would again slip off, and this time get well 


58 


59 


The Cloud-Fairy’s Grandchildren 



“some of the cloud-fairy’s grandchildren” 


6o 


The Cloud-Fairy’s Grandchildren 

out of reach of their grandmother’s voice before she should 
discover they were missing. 

Early one morning Irene saw a very tiny rainbow playing 
all about on the wall of her room ! 

u There are some of the cloud-fairy’s grandchildren ! ” she 
exclaimed delightedly. “ Maybe they take my new grey 
paper for cloud, and my looking-glass for the sun ! ” 

Right after breakfast the little girl ran next door to Cousin 
Irene, who from the very first had been interested in these 
fairies, to tell her all about what had happened. 

Cousin Irene listened to this new chapter in the story, then 
she said : 

“ Come to my room, dear, and I will show you something 
in which I think a few of these same little wanderers must 
have made a home.” 

Cousin Irene then brought out a most beautiful opal brooch 
which gleamed with many-colored lights, almost as bright as 
Irene’s eyes. 

“ When you are older, Irene,” continued her cousin, “ you 
shall have this brooch. It has always been a favorite of 
mine, and I know you will take care of it. And as for the 
fairies we see in it — well, I am sure they will feel quite at 
home with you.” 


XVII 


The Fairy Ball 



‘HE fairies who lived in Fern Dell suddenly made up 


A their minds to give a fancy dress ball, and to invite just 
one mortal, the little Sylvia whose home was near by. Sylvia 
was thus favored because she was an only child, and lived so 
far away from other children she had no one to play with but 
the fairies — who had grown quite fond of her, and often whis- 
pered in her ear when she was asleep where the prettiest 
flowers grew. 

The night of the ball, a fairy called through the window to 
Sylvia, soon after she was tucked in bed, that in an hour they 
would come for her, and, as a number of them together were 
very strong, she could ride to the ball on their interlaced 
wings. 

Later there was the faintest whirring sound outside Sylvia’s 
window ; whereupon the little girl slipped again into her 
clothes, and went off on the wings of her friends the fairies ! 

The spot chosen was the sweetest in beautiful Fern Dell, 
one where the moss was oh, so soft and green ! Under the 
light of the moon Sylvia thrilled to its beauty. Right in the 
center of this mossy patch was a round white mushroom, 
which gleamed almost like another moon. Around this the 
fairies, after they had placed Sylvia on a bank near by, ranged 
themselves for the dance. Sylvia knew many of the little 


61 


62 


The Fairy Ball 

creatures by name, though at first it wasn’t easy to tell them 
in their new fancy dresses. She saw that most of them rep- 
resented flowers. Silver-Dew was all in white, like a great 
fair begonia with her wide skirts ; dear little Honey-Sweet 
was surely a wild-rose, and Sylvia was delighted to see how 
very becoming to her pink was ; Mirabel, who had such dark 
hair, was in purple and scarlet, like a fuschia, while Starry- 
Eyes was more radiant than ever in a tiny Pierrette dress of 
white and black. The boy fairies for the most part wore 
armor, which looked to Sylvia as though made of shining 
beetles ; and one of them waved to and fro a spray of blue- 
bells which gave forth the sweetest music. Then the fairies, 
singly, two and two, sometimes three together, danced hither 
and yon all over the mossy place. Never before had Sylvia 
thought anything could be lighter than thistle-down. 

When the dancers were tired out, they asked Sylvia to join 
them at their feast, which was made up of juicy green leaves, 
currants daintily sliced, and fairy nectar, clear like dewdrops, 
served in buttercups. 

Sylvia thanked them all prettily, but said it would perhaps 
be better for her to return home lest her mother should miss 
her and be frightened. Sylvia was always a thoughtful child, 
and besides did not wish to outstay her welcome. 

“ What a beautiful dance it was ! ” Sylvia cried, clasping 
her hands together, as her little friends spread their wings to 
carry her home. Within a few moments she was back in her' 
bed again. 

Sylvia seemed very sleepy when her mother called her the 
next morning. “ I am so tired,” she murmured, “ for I was 
at a fairy ball last night.” 

But her mother laughed and said, “ What nonsense ; you 


6 3 


The Fairy Ball 

were only dreaming, dear.” Then she added, “ I have long 
thought, though, that you should have another playmate be- 
side a fairy ; so I am going to write for your cousin Helena, 
who is just your age, to pay you a long, long visit.” . . . 

Sylvia and Helena are having great fun together now, though 
of course the fairies never come around any more — Helena is 
so big and strong, and laughs so heartily. But Sylvia is 
loyal, and is not likely to forget her little friends — nor does 
her mother want her to altogether, lest she lose some of her 
gentle, pretty ways. 





I 































































































Ill 























* 













, 

. 

























































' . 







































. ■ 


































' 




















■ 





